The funny little hops, springs, and sidewise bounds he gave set Freckles and the Angel, hidden in the swamp, watching him, into smothered chuckles of delight.
Sometimes he fell to coquetting with himself; and that was the funniest thing of all, for he turned his head up, down, from side to side, and drew in his chin with prinky little jerks and tilts.

He would stretch his neck, throw up his head, turn it to one side and smirk--actually smirk, the most complacent and self-satisfied smirk that anyone ever saw on the face of a bird.

It was so comical that Freckles and the Angel told the Bird Woman of it one day.
When she finished her work on Little Chicken, she left them the camera ready for use, telling them they might hide in the bushes and watch.

If Little Chicken came out and truly smirked, and they could squeeze the bulb at the proper moment to snap him, she would be more than delighted.
Freckles and the Angel quietly curled beside a big log, and with eager eyes and softest breathing they patiently waited; but Little Chicken had feasted before they told of his latest accomplishment.

He was tired and sleepy, so he went into the log to bed, and for an hour he never stirred.
They were becoming anxious, for the light soon would be gone, and they had so wanted to try for the picture.